She had only ever been a distraction. A beautiful puppet in pearls and powder.
Her search for love had led her to Gwendal.
Oh, Gwendal, ...the handsome towering brute with sea-soaked stories and rough hands that once handed her ruby earrings and silk gowns. In his shadowy world, he'd called her "his shining star."
But now, that world reeked of gunpowder that could explode at any moment.
Giselle floated through the curling fog and found him: broad shoulders hunched, loading heavy crates stenciled with the words DYNAMITE onto a carriage. His Havana cigar crackling with flames, hot ash dripping recklessly on the volatile cargo.
Then *she* appeared.
A pirate woman, radiant in her cruelty with a smile like a dagger's curve.
“Giselle is dead,” she said, casually, as if remarking on the weather.
Gwendal froze, cigar almost falling from his lips. “Dead?” The word hit him like a rogue wave.
For a flicker of a moment, Giselle dared to believe he cared. But then, the duo kissed, passionately.
Giselle’s spectral form recoiled as if burned.
“Now what?” the pirate woman huffed, breaking their embrace. “She was our favorite gossip. Who’s going to tell us when the spice ships are docking? Or which crates have the opium?”
“We’ll find someone else,” Gwendal grunted, lifting another crate. “We always do.”
Giselle hovered above them in stunned horror. "I wasn’t his beloved? I was his unwitting spy?"
She turned, fury and heartbreak trailing behind her like smoke. She had no time for that fraud. Those pirates were loathsome con-artists, but they didn’t kill her.
Someone else did.
Was it someone who didn’t like her whispering secrets into dangerous ears?
Giselle raced back to Le Rouge Noir. Her time was bleeding away. The Master of Ceremony’s clock was ticking, each chime louder than the last.
Someone inside that velvet tomb had murdered her.
And soon… she would know who.
Hair: ZAO 124 Hair m [mesh](Engine Room)(399L)
Body: TheShops [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)





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